Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter One

His funeral was a very somber affair.

Everyone was wearing black dress clothes, and I couldn't help but draw the comparison to a professional orchestra, as if they were moments away from busting out some Tchaikovsky. Well, it would've been less uncomfortable, that was clear. Those closest to Steven were sitting down, the rest flocking around them in droves to offer their condolences — some sincere, some just giving in to peer pressure. Donna and Lily were sitting outside, surrounded by their friends, doing their best to appear more okay than they actually were.

My mind was preoccupied with the circumstances surrounding his death, meaning I wasn't actually mourning very much. That was, quite honestly, a very successful coping mechanism — to distract myself with the supernatural so that I didn't dwell on the depressing. But it really just meant that more people were even more worried about me than they would've been otherwise. After all, I was distracted, barely holding myself together, and it was pretty obvious to the people there, those who knew me enough to know I never acted that way. They believed it was over Steven's death, and it was, just not quite in the way they expected. For the most part, after talking to most of the guests, I was able to slip away, off to the side, and no one much bothered me.

Suddenly, my musings were interrupted by someone whose face I couldn't even muster the energy to remember. "Evelyn, there are two strange men outside talking to Donna. She seemed upset, so—"

I didn't let her finish before I was walking away to find who she was talking about.

"—any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" a man was asking Donna. He had brown hair, longish, and looked completely out of place in his flannels and jeans. Really, based on his clothes alone, he looked like he was Canadian. Well, stereotypically.

She shook her head. "No."

Lily looked up then, face twisted in guilt. "That's because it wasn't a stroke."

"Lily, don't say that," her sister admonished quietly.

"What?"

Donna sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, she's just upset."

"No, it happened because of me," the girl insisted.

"Sweetie, it didn't."

The man crouched down so that he was eye-level with the littler sister. "Lily. Why would you say something like that?

She looked at him with wide eyes. "Right before he died, I said it."

"You said what?"

Lily gulped. "Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror."

I watched the two — objectively attractive — men then, their behavior stunning me. Instead of just immediately writing her off as simply too young to understand that those stories were fake — as any normal person would — they shared a look. A startled look. A look that spoke volumes as to who they were and what they knew. A look that told me exactly why they were there.

Internally, I deflated at that realization.

"She took his eyes, that's what she does," Lily continued, growing more inconsolable every moment.

I went to her then, stepping around the two men and crouching down next to her. "That's not why your Dad died. This isn't your fault," I assured her, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

"I think she's right, Lily," the man with the longer hair added. "There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?"

Lily shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

I smiled faintly at her, grasping her hands in an attempt to comfort her. "There. That settles it, right? It can't be your fault."

She held her arms out to me, and I leaned in to hug her, watching the men in my peripheral vision. They shared another look, then walked off.

The moment they were out of earshot, I looked at Donna. "What did they want?" I asked her quietly, trying to shield Lily from it.

She shrugged, looking confused. "They just started asking questions about my dad. Said they worked with him or something, but I've never met them before."

I nodded, standing and looking to see where they'd gone. "Alright. You stay here. I'll go see what they want."

Careful to stay out of their sight, I followed them through the crowd. They weaved their way to the staircase, making sure they weren't being followed, before they went up to the top floor.

I waited until they were out of sight before climbing the steps myself, as quietly as I was able. My gaze found them again just as they disappeared into the bathroom where Steven had been killed. Damn it. Looked like my suspicions had been right.

At that point, I wasn't very concerned with hiding the fact that I was following them, so I walked straight up to the door, taking no care to hide my footsteps at all.

Crossing my arms, I glared the two of them down as they turned to look at me, surprised. "What the hell are you two doing here?"

The other one, with the shorter hair, cleared his throat. "We— we had to go to the bathroom."

I raised an eyebrow at them. "No. I meant, why are you in Toledo at all?"

The one that had talked to Lily glanced at his friend, then back at me. "What do you mean? We live here. We work with—"

I raised a hand to stop him. "Cut the bullshit. You're hunters," I stated, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me. "And damn lousy ones at that. Anyone who knows anything can see that you're up to something, and anyone who knows hunting can figure out exactly what it is. Now, I'd very much appreciate it if you both would just pack up and take your business elsewhere. Your help isn't needed."

They exchanged another look. "Okay, listen. I'm Dean," the short-haired one said, "and this is Sam. Winchester. We're brothers."

I blinked. "Fabulous. I'm Evelyn. Why are you still here?"

Sam scoffed, putting his hands in his pockets. "We're not gonna just leave. This guy—"

I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Steven Shoemaker was a dear friend of mine, and I happen to be aware of the circumstances surrounding his death. Therefore, you don't need to come in here on your high horses and act like you're the only ones in the entire world with half a clue about anything. I've got this handled. You're only going to make things worse."

Dean stepped forward, a suspicious look on his face. "You know what happened to him?"

Crossing my arms, I nodded.

"What?"

"Bloody Mary, of course," I informed him, because it was literally the most obvious thing ever.